Handprint
by Thranduil's Bossy Elk
Summary: One-shot. Dean finds a wounded Cas and taking-care-of ensues :D Destiel, but not explicit or heavy. I own nothing!


Handprint

Dean slammed the door of the Impala shut and squinted up at the sky. Rain was pouring down and seeped under his collar leaving icy trails down his back.

"Friggin' rain" he muttered, picking up his bags and sloshing towards the motel room door. The faded blue paint chipped as he tried to insert the key in the lock and flaked when the door swung open.

Since Sam had gone off with Samuel to find the Alpha vamp Dean had tried to fill the spot his brother had left behind with food, drink, anything that could take his mind off Sam's condition. Dean missed, as much as he was loath to admit, the floppy-haired face that was his constant companion in the passenger seat of the Impala.

The motel was nothing out of the ordinary: bedsheets from the eighties and a creepier-than-usual deer head on the wall. Dean grunted with disdain and dumped his bags on the bed closest the door. He wiped the rain off his face and walked, stretching, towards the bathroom to get cleaned up, the toils of the road weighing heavy on his brow. Dean turned the rusty tap and felt cool water flow over his fingers. He closed his eyes and, cupping the water, splashed it over his face and waited till the red glare behind his eyes faded to a cooling darkness.

Suddenly a thump sounded from the outside room. Dean's head jerked up and he reached for his gun. This was too much…on top of Sam leaving…on top of everything. If there was some monster out there then he was seriously thinking about just inviting it in for pizza or something. Dean stuck his head out cautiously from the bathroom and looked around the room. A familiar flutter sounded.

"Cas?" Dean hurriedly stuck his gun back in his waistband and crossed the room to where the angel was swaying unsteadily. Cas was holding his hands over his side where a pure white light was leaking from between his fingers. He looked at Dean, blue eyes flashing worriedly as he tried to articulate a word.

"…Dean..." Castiel coughed, "…Zachariah….he caught up with me and…." Cas stopped again as he doubled over, gripping his side tighter and whimpered.

Dean acted quickly to grab Cas under the arms as his knees buckled. He looked around the motel room, trying to remember what supplies he had in the car. Dean hesitantly slid Cas's trenchcoat and suit jacket off, trying to see any other injuries.

"Ok Cas buddy, let's get you on here" Dean muttered, trying desperately to take stock of Castiel's injuries. He only seemed to have the one lesion in his side, but as Dean rolled him over to check the wound Castiel's chest hitched with agony. Dean drew his fingers back quickly and looked the angel over again…but there were no more wounds.

"Cas? What else? What did Zachariah do…?" Cas just breathed rapidly. Dean shook his head and ran his fingers over Cas's chest hesitantly.

"When I find 'ol junkless I'll show him what's what…" he murmured distractedly. Dean's fingers continued to travel over Cas's chest and side but he couldn't feel any broken bones or anything that would cause Cas discomfort. Cas's eyes opened briefly and slowly moved his hand to rest lightly on Dean's. Cas slowly guided Dean's hand towards his shoulder. Dean felt Cas's chest hitch under his touch. Cas's hand kept guiding Dean's until Dean was touching the spot between his shoulder blades. Dean looked at Cas worriedly.

"Cas…what is it?" he asked softly, afraid that Cas didn't have all his marbles in the bank.

"Can you see them?" Castiel murmured. "…now?"

Dean gasped as, under his hand, the shimmering and incandescent outline of wings appeared on Castiel's back. He felt Cas's muscles under the thin white shirt and saw the writhing spot where the wings sprouted from his back. Dean's throat closed for a second and the sight of his own fingers on Cas's back made a warm sensation spread throughout his stomach. Dean shook his head briefly and let his gaze wander over the huge wingspread until he noticed that one of them was badly bent.

Dean moved across the bed to run his hands lightly over the shimmering wing that Cas stretched out towards him. Cas's breathing was growing more ragged. His huge blue eyes stared plaintively at Dean and begged him to do something. Nervously, Dean gently laid his hands on Cas's broken wing and felt the damage. The main bone was broken in several places and Dean had a pretty good idea who had twisted the wing. His mouth set in a hard line at the thought of Zachariah laying a hand on Castiel. He turned to face Cas again.

"I'm gonna set the wing, it might..well it will…hurt Cas", he said, "I'm sorry…" Dean felt different; he'd never acted this way around Sam's, let alone his own wounds. It was all business and hiding pain when other hunters were involved but with Cas…the angel was lying prone on the bed, face turned towards Dean in supplication. Dean looked at Cas's trembling hands briefly and cleared his throat as he thought of the handprint still seared on his own shoulder.

Cas, slightly propped up against the headboard, gave a low moan that shook Dean from his reverie. He had been lost in the remembrance of a voice. . . _"gripped you tight and raised you from perdition . . ."_ Those words haunted him since the day they had been uttered by the angel now lying in front of him.

"Ok, let's get this over with" he said to Cas, laying his hands as gently as possible on the broken wing. Dean shifted so that he could get better leverage. He ended up having to kneel on the bed and tower above Cas. Dean took a deep breath and wished that Cas would stop looking at him that way. Angels weren't supposed to be helpless, they were supposed to be invincible. Lines appeared on his brow and he began to count.

"One . . . tw-CRACK!"

Cas cried out. Dean had never heard anything more heartbreaking. His hands shook as he tried to hold Cas down when his chest bucked. Soon Cas quieted and Dean was left still kneeling awkwardly on the bed. Cas was breathing more peacefully now, his chest under the dampened shirt rising steadily and his blue eyes fluttering closed.

Dean looked at his hand. He wondered. . .

With infinite hesitation, Dean slowly put his hand on Cas's shoulder in a mirror image of the mark on his own. Cas stirred and his eyes opened. He looked at Dean without confusion or hesitation. His gaze, always steady, was focused on Dean to the exclusion of anything else in the world. Dean shifted gently so that he wasn't kneeling anymore but lying next to Cas on the bed. Their chests brushed as they settled into position. Dean could feel the warm, steady beat of Cas's heart again. He had no memory of ever being this close to another being, not his past girlfriends, not Sam, not Bobby. . . Cas was different. The angel made no move to shift away from Dean. Cas turned his head so that his full gaze fell on Dean.

With his hand still stretched over to touch Cas's shoulder, Dean brought his face slowly closer. Cas leaned forward. With a brush of cool air, his lips pressed against Dean's forhead, then his eyes, and travelled slowly down. Dean's legs twined unconciously with Cas's. His breath echoed in his own ears and he felt the warm rush of Cas's as their mouths drew nearer.

Cas's wandering lips finally reached Dean's mouth, and after the smallest hesitation, pressed against Dean's. Dean closed his eyes and breathed in through his nose. The feel of the angel's lips on his own was light but he could barely stop his chest from trembling.

Dean couldn't tell how long they stayed like that, lips gently brushing each other's faces. He had slid his other hand inside Cas's shirt and let his hand rest against the angel's chest.

A faint vibration roused Dean from a half-dream. His cell phone was ringing. He pulled the phone out of his jeans pocket and flipped open the small screen.

Sam.

"Sammy?" Dean answered.

"Dean, I'm heading back to you. Got the vamp, no problems" said Sam, his voice muffled by distance and bad reception.

"Ok," said Dean, his eyes looking into the distance past Cas. The phone clicked, Sam had hung up.

Dean turned to face Cas again, noticing how the blue eyes reflected the lamplight behind him.

"Thank you, Dean" Cas murmured, his gravelly tones made softer.

Dean closed his eyes and breathed deeply. A soft flutter brushed his face, and when he opened his eyes again, Castiel was gone.


End file.
